


A Lonely Soul In A Fiery World

by daddyslittlepogchamp



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Found Family, Gen, Isolation, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Third Person, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Touch-Starved, Whump, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddyslittlepogchamp/pseuds/daddyslittlepogchamp
Summary: Phil was a regular visitor of the nether and had been for a long time. Though its inhabitants were hostile towards the winged man at first, with iridescent armor and wings as dark as cooled magma, once he had been taught the customs of the locals, he was considered friendly.This was one such visit.
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 331





	A Lonely Soul In A Fiery World

Phil was a regular visitor of the nether and had been for a long time. Though its inhabitants were hostile towards the winged man at first, with iridescent armor and wings as dark as cooled magma, once he had been taught the customs of the locals, he was considered friendly. 

This was one such visit. Phil had strapped on his golden armor, as he had been taught years ago by a particularly kind librarian, and saddled up his horse to head towards the portal, saddlebags packed with gold. He planned on heading to a market he had been told about recently, and aware of his lack of pearls, He decided to go. 

The winged man stepped through the portal as the sun rose, not wanting to waste any time whatsoever. He was very aware of the fact that his visits to the nether always seemed to last longer than he intended. 

"Fucken' vines-" He complained as he tripped through a crimson forest, feathers flying whenever he flapped around in an attempt to stay upright. He wasn't made for this realm, really. Heavy boots held him back where nimble hooves wouldn't, pale skin burned where thick hide wouldn't, and small human ears missed sounds that would make large pierced ears stand to attention. 

Phil was by no means incompetent, however, eyes widening when he heard a shrill squeal below him. 

When he peered over the edge of the cliff he was standing by, wings fluffed and poised ready for flight, he could see what looked to be a hoglin standing over something out of view, snorting loudly with its tusks bloodied... but by what?

Phil drew his sword and swooped down without a second thought, his fight instinct taking him over after his split-second moment of shock. He was focused on distracting the hoglin at first, but after figuring out it was out for blood, was quick to swing his blade down between its crazed eyes, only removing the blood-slicked sword once the creature had stilled.

Blue eyes settled on the quivering form that the hoglin had been obstructing as he sheathed his sword. Phil's gaze softened at the sight of the young piglin, surveying the situation. The child was very obviously hurt, and it was easy to see where. There was a long gash along the piglin's forearm, stretching from wrist to elbow where the Hoglin's tusk had managed to gauge the flesh. 

"Christ- why are you alone?" Phil breathed, dropping to a crouch and ignoring how nearby magma singed his feathers. That wasn't important right now. 

The piglin said nothing in return, only letting out a pained gasp as he tried to shuffle away, cradling an injured arm to his heaving chest. He looked terrified of Phil, and the man couldn't blame him. Most piglin children had that reaction to him, hell, even his own son had been scared of him when they first interacted.

"No no- Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? See the gold?" Phil carefully extended his arm so the piglin could identify it. "I have healing potions, you know what those are, right?" He reached back into his satchel to pull out the bottles with a clink, quickly flicking through them until he picked up the healing potions he had made for Wilbur.

Wilbur was a picky, picky child. He would get upset if chests were organized in the wrong way, hated every vegetable Phil had tried to serve him, and above all, despised how potions tasted. Because of this, Phil had begun to flavor potions Wilbur would need with sweet berries, masking the bitter fermented ingredients. He was hoping that the sweet smell would entice the terrified piglin, possibly make him seem more trustworthy, even.

He popped the cork and carefully held out the potion to the piglin child, who was beginning to move towards him, though he still held his injured arm to his chest. Phil grimaced at the wound. It was pumping blood and ash had found its way into the injury somehow. They would absolutely need to clean that once the child had calmed down.

The piglin paused at the potion, looking up at Phil with dark eyes before snatching the bottle and scurrying backwards, holding the potion to his lips and chugging the whole thing, almost seeming dehydrated. Phil found himself wondering where piglins could even get water. He eventually finished, wiping his mouth with his good arm and carefully rolling the empty bottle back to Phil. 

"Does that feel better, mate?" Phil smiled slightly, to which the piglin nodded slowly. He let out a sigh of relief.

"What's your name? I'm Philza- call me Phil, if you want." He offered his name as he put the used bottle away once again. 

The piglin looked at him in silence for a moment, looking as if he was trying to maneuver his mouth around the words.

"Technoblade." He eventually got out, and Phil beamed at the new information. He loved piglin names, they weren't as boring as human ones.

"Well, Technoblade, can you show me your arm? I know it doesn't hurt as much, but you need help cleaning that up." Phil pointed out. The healing potion had helped clot the blood, so at least it wasn't bleeding anymore, but it was still an open wound that could make even Phil queasy if he looked at it for too long.

Technoblade looked unsure but found no reason not to trust the bird hybrid in front of him. He edged forward and outstretched his arm with a flinch, only relaxing when he felt Phil began to gently clean the wound, hand gripping the older man's robes.

After only a few more minutes, Technoblade's arm was released from Phil's grip, stitched and bandaged. Phil stood up. 

"Where are your parents?" Phil asked as he saw the child examine his handiwork with wonder. 

Technoblade blinked up at Phil for a moment before he let out a soft whimper, pressing his face against Phil's hip with a wounded expression on his face. 

"Do you have... anyone?" Phil asked softly, placing a pale hand on Technoblade's head. The Piglin shook his head with another heart-wrenching whine.

Phil felt as if the air from his lungs was stolen, heartstrings twinging painfully. "Come with me, mate." Phil opened up his hand, and Technoblade took it quickly, simply holding onto a finger when he realized his hand was too small to hold the older man's whole hand. 

"I'll look after you now." He uttered softly.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic here, and I hope you guys enjoy it! it was a cute little concept I came up with because i'm a found family kinda guy myself


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